Page 14 of Sad Girl Hours
Saffron sinks a little beside me.
“You still don’t agree?” I ask.
“It’s not that I don’t agree – I love all those things foryou,” she says. “I just don’t personally get the appeal of living in the dark for months at a time.”
“Maybe you’ve just not been around enough people like me who, as Jenna said, go feral for autumn and all things festive,” I say. “I’ll show you how fun they can be.”
“I don’t think you could change my mind, Nell. No offence,” Saffron adds. “They’re just not for me.”
“Thinkdoesn’t sound like an absolute. And I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge.”
Saffron’s pupils flare. “I really don’t—”
“Wait.” I pause. That lightning thing, that zap, has just happened, my brain flashing shocking white. “No, this could really work.”
I shuffle around so that I’m fully facing Saffron. “I’ve just had the most perfect idea. One that’ll benefit both of us.”
Her mouth curves up but her eyes betray more hesitation. “Go on.”
“I love autumn and winter. You don’t. I need something to write poems about. You always want more cool things to post on your TikTok so that you can trick people into following you and then bamboozle them with sneakily educational space videos. And you also need to learn how to make the most of the seasons for your own sake.”
She looks nervous, twisting a flaxen curl round one finger, her pastel-pink painted nail flashing with each twirl. “Go on.”
“So, I propose we make an epic seasonal bucket list, full of my favourite things to do at this time of year. I’ll show you all there is to love and you’ll make your videos. I’ll write poems about everything we do, with some poignant twist about the transience of the world, yadda yadda, and bing bang bosh: we’ve both got ourselves hitsandwe’ve had the absolute best time of ourgoddamn lives. Ta-da!” I finish off with some jazz hands and an expectant grin.
“I…” Saffron starts. “I don’t know…”
“Come on,” I say proudly. “You have to admit this is an excellent idea.”
Chapter Seven
Saffron
This is a terrible idea.
I love Nell’s enthusiasm and how happy her idea has made her, but I also can’t agree to it. My dislike of autumn and winter isn’t related to whatever activities there are to do in them – not that Ihaveever really done any of them. I’ve mostly been busy being capital S sad. No, it’s the fact that my mental health takes a monumental hit, and I end up wallowing in the dark feeling like I’m failing myself and the people around me. But I can’t tell her that and watch her smile fall.
“It’s a really nice plan, Nell,” I say carefully. “I just know you’re not going to change my mind. And you’ll be busy with work – you’ve got your own life – this isn’t something you need to do.”
“Well, I won’t be busy with work if I can’t find anything to write about. And yes, I do have my own life but it’s a life I’d love nothing more than to fill with all my favourite thingsandalso get to share them with you.”
I notice Jenna’s face soften into a smile at that last part.
“That’s really sweet of you,” I say, desperately trying to find the words to knock back the idea without dampening Nell’s enthusiasm or hurting her feelings. “But I really don’t want to waste your time.”
“I’m the one who gets to decide what’s a waste of my time, and this is definitely not going to be that. Quite the opposite. Comeon – it’s a win-win! You’ll get so much goodcontent.” She sings the last word like a siren.
Ordinarily it would work. I love spending time with Nell, and she does make a good point. The idea of doing anything forcontentis deeply cringe to me, but also…
It is fun, and I love sharing my love of astrophysics with more and more people (even if the pressure of having such a large audience does occasionally hit me and I get the urge to cleanse my digital footprint from the internet entirely).
But, more than that, I also like knowing that I havesomething, just in case things do go really wrong. I get a modest income from my videos every month, not enough to live on, or even particularly close, but if I did do this with Nell – and she’s right: people would probably love that kind of thing – then it’d be a good way to keep building engagement.
That is all a pretty persuasive point in Nell’s plan’s favour, but it’s still not enough. I go to apologise and say no, but when I look up at her face again…
Her hazel eyes are soft and wide, her mouth curved up, excitement and hope radiating from her entire person.
Nell is one of my closest friends. I know how much her poetry means to her. I saw her passion for it, the same way she saw my passion for all things space, the very first night we met when there were stars above us and scattered across her dress as we danced together. I thought she looked like the coolest witch I’d ever seen. And she clearly had no idea how beautiful she was, and how effortlessly herself in a way that I both admired and coveted.
